Forever for Tonight
by drewandian
Summary: Post season six, Hotch goes to Prentiss in Paris to settle some unresolved business. Inspired by the song "Forever for Tonight" by Blessid Union of Souls (which is obviously where the title came from)
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: **I have always been taken by Prentiss's vulnerability in the beginning of "Demonology" and felt it was almost awkward how Hotch didn't go to her and kept the desk safely between them. She's so strong but in that moment she looks so lost and it's stuck with me.

**~So when I'm far away, I will always be with you. You will never be alone. So if you feel the need, take my hand and share this night. It will be eternity~ Blessid Union of Souls**

Thunder rumbled in the distance, threatening an impending storm. Emily Prentiss shivered slightly and lit the candles that sat on the table in front of her. She moved around the living room, lighting more candles as she went. It wasn't that Emily was afraid of the dark, she told herself, it just never hurt to be prepared.

She knew that she was safe. No one, except for JJ and Hotch, knew she was alive, let alone holed up in Paris. Her physical wounds were healing. The mental and emotional wounds – well they would take some time.

Candles lit and wine in hand, Emily settled onto the couch. She picked up a book, determined to push out all the thoughts of Ian Doyle, the BAU, home.

A loud clap of thunder, practically overheard, paired with a sharp knock at the door, startled Emily, the book she'd dozed off reading slipping from her lap.

Her heart racing, she made her way quietly to the door. She was certain no one knew where to find her. Fighting back panic, she peered through the peep hole.

"Hotch?" she whispered in relief, pulling the door open.

She stepped back, allowing her unit chief to enter. She pushed the door closed, locking it before turning to face him. She had been ignoring his calls for weeks, praying he'd eventually give up. They both knew any contact would put them both in danger and she wasn't ready to answer the questions she knew he had.

She stared ahead, waiting for him to speak. A lump formed in her throat when his eyes met hers.

For a brief moment, Hotch couldn't say anything. He simply stood, taking in the woman in front of him.

Her hair fell in waves down her back, still damp from her earlier shower. Her brown eyes were wide with shock, full of shadows, deep and dark against her strikingly pale skin. She'd lost weight, he noticed, and her tank top rode up over her hips, the scar on her abdomen peeking out beneath the hem. She was barefoot; he'd never realized how much shorter she was than him.

She looked lost, and scared, and it was all he could do not to cross the distance between them and gather her in his arms.

But he was angry and had questions that needed answers.

Another clap of thunder, closer than the last, another flash of lightning, made Emily jump again. Despite the warmth of her apartment she shivered again. She pressed back harder against the door, her eyes meeting his as the lightning threw shadows over them.

"What – "her voice cracked and she swallowed hard "– what are you doing here, Hotch?" barely more than a whisper.

He hated how small she looked; her vulnerability from the horrors she'd endured making her withdraw into herself. He had never seen her so on edge; even during the worst of it with Doyle she'd been confident, never backing down.

Now, it seemed, Doyle had won after all; he'd broken the unbreakable Emily Prentiss.

Hotch wanted him dead. But first they had their own unfinished business.

"Hotch?" She prompted again, raising an eyebrow at him.

He cleared his throat, the haunted look in her eyes weakening his resolve. "I called – "barely louder than a whisper.

Emily nodded. "You shouldn't be here. It isn't safe for you to be here." She couldn't meet his eyes as she verbally pushed him away. The truth was that she was grateful not to be alone anymore.

Hotch nodded. "I know. I – there is still so much we didn't say – couldn't say – before you left. I – "he sighed. "I need answers."

Emily hung her head, her hair falling forward and hiding her face. She knew he'd start asking questions sooner or later. And she knew she owed him answers. She had simply walked away and disappeared with no explanations. She knew Hotch wouldn't just let it go.

"Emily, why didn't you tell us? Why didn't you trust us to help you?" His voice broke.

Another rumble of thunder, flash of lightning lighting up the entry way.

Emily's head shot up, a fire in her eyes replacing the shadows.

"Not trust you!?" She pushed away from the door and stormed past Hotch. He followed her into the living room. "How can you think I didn't – don't – trust you!? You guys are the closest thing I've ever had to a real family! I trust you with my life!" She pushed her hand through her hair as she paced back and forth.

"Then why run? Emily – "Hotch grabbed her arm, forcing her to stop pacing. "Emily, stop. Talk to me. If you trust me – us – why didn't you talk to us? We could have protected you. Helped you."

Emily looked down at Hotch's hand on her arm. Tears welled in her eyes, making them shine.

"Hotch – "she started, the lump in her throat making it almost impossible to talk. She shook her head sadly. "Hotch, I thought if I – if I left, you would all be safe. I'm the one Doyle wanted. Wants." She took a deep breath and met his eyes, the shadows creeping back into hers. "It's complicated, Hotch, there's a lot of history there." A shiver ran through her at the thought of telling Hotch her story; maybe he wouldn't press it . . .

Hotch saw her shiver and pulled her close to him, running his hands up and down her arms. He frowned when she tensed and pulled away from him. He knew she wasn't especially physically affectionate, neither was he, but everything about her spoke to her current need to be held and touched. And everything in him ached to hold her.

Another rumble of thunder broke the tense silence. Hotch sighed and shook his head.

"Then explain it to me. Tell me. Help me understand." He took a tentative step toward her, shoving his hands in his pocket to resist the urge to touch her, hold her.

Emily picked up her wine from the coffee table, draining it in one gulp. She pulled out a second wine glass and filled them both, handing one to Hotch as she sat on the couch. She curled her legs under her, all but disappearing into the corner of the couch.

"Should you be drinking on your pain meds?" Hotch asked before he could stop himself. He chuckled lightly at the scowl she shot him. "Right. Doesn't matter."

He circled around the table, sitting on the other end of the couch, waiting for her to speak. He knew she didn't have to tell him; he also knew that she would eventually. Sometimes it took Emily a while, but she always found someone to share her demons with. It had never been him – the seemed to make it a point to circle around one another, never digging deeper.

He had JJ; she, Rossi. Unfortunately due to the circumstances, Emily had no other options and she knew he, of all people, deserved the truth.

She took another sip of wine, steeling herself for Hotch's reaction when all was said and done.

More thunder, another flash of lightning; Emily jumped again. She stared ahead, watching the rain pelt the picture window on the wall opposite the couch.

"Doyle was an undercover assignment." Hotch nodded; he knew the technical details. "I had to get close, had to find a way for him to let me in. After years of doing anything and everything I could to rebel, it was easy to play this part. To be Lauren and make him fall for me. "She took another sip of wine and licked her lips nervously. "I became his lover." She fidgeted with the glass in her hands, shifted uncomfortably in her seat. She and Hotch and an unspoken agreement to avoid topics like relationships and sex – they had for years.

The tension mounted and Hotch put his hand on her knee, distracted for the briefest moment by how soft her skin was, and squeezed it slightly. She looked at his hand on her knee, brown eyes wide, shock seeping into them. Whether it was from the recounting of her story or the unexpected contact, Hotch wasn't sure.

"Only, I wasn't fifteen anymore. It wasn't about fitting in anymore. I was there to do my job, and I was damn good at it. Too good." A hot tear slid unnoticed down her cheek. "For years he believed the lie. For years I used and manipulated him. I told myself that he was a monster and that he somehow deserved it." Her voice trailed off and she stared unseeing out the window, lost in the memories. "I had myself convinced that it was just an assignment. That I was just doing my job. But you can't give that much of yourself for so long without it affecting you. Changing you. The intimacy go to me. "Tears traced their way down her cheeks; it was so unlike her and he brushed them away with his thumbs.

She turned her head into his touch for a split second, pulling away as lightning flashed again.

"Ultimately, I betrayed his trust. I know I had to; it was my job. The whole reason why I was there. But I became no better than him, manipulating the situation and betraying him so that he'd be caught and put in prison. It was where he belonged, I know that. But that assignment made me feel, for the first time in my career, like I was a monster, too." She shook her head, staring out the window at the rain to avoid making eye contact with Hotch, afraid of what she'd see in the hazel depths.

"I ran to protect you all, not just from Doyle, but from me, too." She finished, her voice husky with emotion.

"Emily, "his voice was heavy with sadness. "Why would you think, even for a minute, that you are anything like the monsters we chase? Or that we would ever need to be protected from you? We've been a team – a family – for over four years. You're surrounded by some of the best profilers in the FBI. We've always been honest with one another. Why stop now, Emily?" she could hear the betrayal he felt in his voice.

She stared into her wine, hating that her eyes had filled with tears and that her lower lip was trembling.

"He knew about you, all of you. He was targeting families. He thought that Declan was dead and that I had killed him. He wasn't going to stop until he took what was important to me. I had to take the fight to him. It was the only way to keep you all safe. "She shook the dark thoughts from her mind. "It was never about whether or not I trusted you. I wasn't afraid of facing Doyle – I was never afraid of him. Not as far as my life was concerned." She finally met Hotch's eyes, the truth tumbling from her lips. "I was – am – afraid of what I've become and what it will do to the lives I touch." Tears fell freely and she stifled a sob.

Another flash of lightning lit the room before the power failed, leaving nothing but the flickering candles for light.

"Emily – "Hotch closed the space between them, setting her wine on the table before taking her in his arms.

He held her in silence, knowing she hadn't said all there was to say. Seeing her so vulnerable unnerved him; he had never been good at this. She needed him, though, and for Emily, he would have walked to the ends of the Earth.

Emily only allowed herself a few minutes to fall apart before she pulled away from Hotch. He wasn't surprised; of his team, she'd never been the one to show emotion or let what they saw or had to do affect her. She was never plagued with nightmares. Her grief assessments had always been quick and to the point.

He was begging to understand her concern. Why she was afraid.

HE was about to speak when she beat him to it.

"I have always known that I'm not like everyone else. Growing up in the world I did, I couldn't afford to be sentimental. Working undercover was the same, or I would have lost me in the lies. I get that." She sipped her wine, mulling over just how much to reveal to Hotch. She'd kept so much hidden from him. But he had risked his life to come to her; she owed him the whole story.

"Something broke in my when I was in Italy when I was fifteen. I – I" she huffed out a sigh, swallowing past the lump in her throat. "After Matthew found that doctor, after the abortion – I know he believed that I was good and worthy of love. But then he spiraled out of control. And his parents are right – it was my fault. If I hadn't been so desperate to fit in none of it would have happened. I'm broken, Hotch, beyond repair. And I'm poison to those who get past the walls and get to close. It was better for me to live than to risk all of your lives." She finished the last of her wine in one swallow and put her glass on the table. She sat, so small in the corner of the couch, so lost; her hands clasped in her lap as she picked at her nails.

"Emily, stop." Hotch put his hand on hers, sure that they'd both reached their limit of physical contact and finding it hard to care. "We're all broken. We've all suffered loss to this job. You're no more like the monster we hunt than I am, than any of us are. You can't blame yourself for any of that. You said Matthew had always challenged the church – he would have with or without your experiences giving him ammunition. You were a kid who made a mistake. And Declan, you protected him. Saved him from becoming his father. And now we're doing everything we can to finish what you started." She looked up, surprised. Her eyes shone with tears and she shook her head.

Hotch smiled gently, the dimple she never got to see enough just barely showing itself.

"I get it – you're tough as nails, Prentiss, no one would dare say otherwise. But being tough doesn't make you a monster. It makes you good at your job." She looked down at their hands, still clasped in her lap. "You have four people in Quantico mourning you. Grieving a loss bigger than they can even begin to comprehend." He paused as a tear dripped onto his hand. "You were – are – light and love and family to them. To us. And we will find Doyle. He will pay for what he's put you through. "

Hotch's eyes darted to where he knew Doyle had branded Emily with his signature symbol – a clover – before he could stop himself. He put a finger under her chin, tipping her face up until her eyes met his. The shadows had returned and Hotch decided then and there that he would make it his personal mission to chase them away and ensure that they never came back. He wiped her tears away with this thumbs, never breaking eye contact.

"We *will* get him." He repeated, his voice cold and hard. "And you will come home, back to where you belong, with the family who misses you. Who loves you." He finished, a softness to his voice that she'd only heard him use for Haley or Jack.

His eyes spoke volumes, more than he could say with words. Even in the dim light thrown into the room from the candles, she couldn't miss what he was telling her. Her eyes widened in surprise, her mouth forming a perfect "oh".

She wasn't alone. Not isolated. And certainly not forgotten or unwanted.

Before he could overthink it, Hotch acted on impulse and leaned forward, gently pressing his lips to hers.

"Hotch – "Emily's voice was nothing more than a husky whisper, full of questions and warnings.

"Can we just be Emily and Aaron, just for tonight?" He stroked her cheek with his thumb again.

"Hotch – Aaron – I – I don't know if I can. Not knowing that you'll have to leave and that I'll shatter again." She was torn, it was written all over her face.

"I understand." He said quietly. "I would never push you into something that would hurt you. I – I lost you, too, the day you "died" on that table. Even though I knew the truth I felt the loss. I runs deeper than I ever imagined it could." His voice trailed as he remembered how he'd felt when JJ had come to the waiting room and said that Emily was gone. Even knowing it was a lie, there was that split second when he'd believed the lie too. It had been like losing Haley all over again and it had taken his breath away.

Now, Emily was sitting here in front of him, alive and healing. He was being given a second chance. And he vowed to himself that he wouldn't lose her again.

"Oh, Aaron – "Emily searched for the words, finding irony in the fact that with all the languages she could speak fluently, no words came now. She searched his eyes, reading everything she'd put him through in them.

She took a deep breath, letting it out slowly before she crashed her lips into his, claiming him as hers, only pulling away when they finally needed to breathe.


	2. Chapter 2

She knelt on the couch, her eyes locked on his as she loosened his tie. She unbuttoned his shirt with trembling fingers, pushing it over his shoulders and down his arms

She broke eye contact then, her gaze taking in the subtle muscle tone in his chest and abs. She ghosted her fingers over the scars Foyet had left him with, the feather light touches giving him goose bumps. He hissed at the contact.

"That day – that was the day I finally realized. Finally knew you were more than my boys – my friend. I – I don't know what was worse, finding your apartment the way I did and you unconscious in the hospital, or watching you send Haley and Jack away. My heart broke so many times in the days that followed, in ways I had never known it could. In ways I didn't even understand." Her eyes met his again, a fire burning the shadows away. "I hate lying to everyone now, especially you." Her voice cracked.

He cupped her cheek with his hand, drawing her lips to his in a gentle, forgiving kiss.

Keeping his eyes locked on hers, looking for any sign of hesitation, he took the hem of her tank top in his fingers, drawing it up and over her head.

His fingers skimmed her sides and her breath caught in her throat.

His gaze shifted to her scar, new but healing, and he mimicked her earlier action. She shuddered at his touch, her ivory skin flushing pink.

"I've known longer. Since the night you stood in my office, looking lost and vulnerable, mourning your friend. I wanted to come around my desk and hold you. It took everything in me to stop myself. It was also the first time I worried about my ability to stay objective." His eyes met hers and he lost himself in the dark depths. "It's probably better that I didn't know the truth about you and Doyle until it was too late. It's probably not safe that I know it all now."

His eyes darkened with anger and determination as he looked at the clover branded on her breast.

Now it was Emily's turn to cup his face in her hand, drawing his lips to hers.

She deepened the kiss, keeping her hand at his cheek as she stood, using her other hand to pull him up with her.

She turned, his hand still in hers, and led him to her bed.


	3. Chapter 3

They lay in a tangle of limbs and sheets, Emily's head resting on Aaron's chest, listening as his heartbeat steadied and slowed.

He brushed her hair away from her face and dropped a chaste kiss on her head. He wrapped his arms around her, almost as if he was afraid she would slip away if he didn't hold on tightly enough.

She trailed her fingers over his scars. Foyet had never intended to kill Aaron, they'd all realized that early on. But what he'd put Aaron through was so much worse. It had killed her to have to watch the mental and emotional abuse Aaron had to endure. The image of him beating Foyet to death was forever burned into her memory.

She understood why Doyle wanted her dead. She had done the same thing to him. And as long as he was alive and free, she had to stay dead – for her friends' protection as much as for her own.

She sighed deeply, snaking her arm around his waist and snuggling closer.

"You OK?" His hand came up to rub her back.

"Aaron, you – you can't come back. You can't see me again until Doyle's caught." She said it in a rush, as if it would hurt less that way.

"Emily – "

"No. Don't 'Emily' me. It isn't safe. I would never forgive myself if anything happened to you or Jack." She turned her head and kissed his neck. "Find him, lock him up, and bring me home. We've waited this long, we can wait a little longer. Besides, how would you explain multiple trips overseas? The BAU doesn't typically called for cases in Paris."

He knew she was right. As much as he hated the idea of leaving her alone, he knew she'd be all right. He would go home, take care of Doyle and bring her home, just like she said.

He echoed her earlier sigh. "Fine. I won't come back until he's caught. I will not promise that I won't call, just to hear your voice, but I won't try to see you again until we've taken care of Doyle." He kissed her head, shifting his body so that she was on her back beneath him.

She cupped his face with her hands, closing the distance between them and kissing him deeply. They made love slowly, gently, savoring the feel of their bodies moving as one. The slow passionate burn of friends-become-lovers; as if they had all the time in the world.


	4. Chapter 4

Emily watched Aaron dress, smirking as he straightened his tie. She pulled a sheet around her, rising up to her knees on the bed and taking his hand. She pulled him close and wrapped her arm around his shoulders, the sheet slipping down to reveal the clover she'd been branded with. She saw the anger flash in his eyes and kissed him softly.

"I've thought about having surgery, getting it fixed. " She smiled at his nod. "But I've decided not to."

"You want to keep the reminder of Doyle?"

"The scar on my stomach will always be there. And no - I want to keep the reminder that I have so much good in my life to fight for. The reminder that there is still good in me. He tried to claim me, but I already belonged to someone else. Was a part of a family." Emily met Aaron's eyes, searching. Satisfied with what she saw there, she nodded slightly.

"I love you, Aaron Hotchner. Get that bastard so that I can come home and show you every day just how much I do." She declared with a smile.

"Yes, ma'am." He answered, pulling his freshly tied tie off as he pushed her back onto the bed. "I love you too, Emily." He said as he kissed her again.


	5. Chapter 5

**~One Year Later~**

Emily watched Hotch on the dance floor with Beth and smiled sadly. She knew she only had herself to blame and she lied to herself – telling herself that she was happy he was happy. That he deserved someone uncomplicated. Someone better than her.

She'd kept her distance from him ever since she'd come back. At first it had been so that she could mend her relationships with the rest of the team. She'd had a lot of damage control to do, especially with Reid, and she didn't want the added stress of outing her relationship with Hotch.

The walls had gone up so easily. It had been second nature to just keep holding him at arms' length and fall back into their old habits. And because they didn't know any better, her friends' well-intentioned encouragement when Hotch had mentioned meeting Beth simply took hold.

Before they knew it, she was going to Jack's soccer games and Emily was agreeing to move to London. It was just easier to run. To start over. She'd never really been very good at setting down roots any way.

Hotch met her eye and made his way to her. He led her to the dance floor, far enough away from where Beth was dancing with Rossi, she noticed, so that they could speak freely.

"London, Emily?"

"Hotch – "Always Hotch now, he noticed, never Aaron anymore "– I'm restless here, always on edge. I need a fresh start, somewhere that isn't full of ghosts and memories."

"Emily – "She tensed at what she heard in his voice.

"I'm happy for you, Hotch. Really." They both heard the lie and she prayed he'd let it go. "I have to go. I can't stay here." Her voice was husky with unshed tears. She kissed him on the cheek and walked off the dance floor, leaving him standing there alone and torn.


	6. Chapter 6

**~London, Six Months Later~**

Thunder rumbled overhead as Emily unlocked the door to her flat, letting herself in. She shook the rain from her hair, lighting candles as she made her way through each room.

She sat on the edge of her bed and pulled off her boots, tossing them into the corner. She changed into shorts and a tank top, pulling her hair up into a messy bun as she walked to the kitchen.

She poured herself a glass of wine and settled onto the couch with a book. Sergio leapt into her lap, circling three times before curling into a ball and purring contentedly.

The cat, the wine and the storm all worked together, making Emily feel cozy and content, and it wasn't long before she dozed off.

A loud clap of thunder and sharp knock at the door startled her, and she awkwardly stumbled off of the couch.

"Hold on!" she called as she hurried to the door. She peered through the peep hole, her eyes widening when she saw Hotch standing at her door.

He shifted slightly from one foot to the other, from nerves or anticipation she wasn't sure.

She pulled the door open and stepped aside, closing the door behind her and pressing her back against it.

Their eyes met and she waited for him to speak.

"Emily – "He started, still shifting nervously. Her breath caught in her throat; even when he'd come to her in Paris eighteen months ago he'd been calm and poised. She couldn't think of a time when she'd seen him unsure.

"Hotch?"

"Emily." He started again. "I can't do this. I can't keep going, pretending that I don't feel anything for you. I love you; I need you; I never should have let you leave that dance floor."

"Hotch, "her voice was full of warning and sadness. "I love you. That won't ever change. But there are so many reasons why I'm so completely wrong for you. I'm damaged, broken. I don't' know how to set down roots, and you and Jack need and deserve roots. And there's Beth –"her voice trailed as she began to pick at her nails.

"We're all broken. And we're the glue that holds one another together. You were with the team, in Quantico, for five years before Doyle; you had roots." He smirked when Emily sighed and rolled her eyes. "And I broke up with Beth. Two months ago. I tried to respect your decision. Tried to make it work with her. But she knew I wasn't invested; we mutually agreed to break things off. She told me I'd be an idiot if I didn't book a flight here."

Emily stared at him, her mouth in a silent "oh", again, ironically, speechless.

Hotch reached out and took her hands in his, gently pulling her toward him. She shook her head, letting him take her into his arms.

"Hotch – Aaron – I, I can't. I don't know – "she stammered. He smiled putting his fingers under her chin and tipping her face up. He pressed his lips to hers, silencing her protests.

"Emily, for once in your life just try and let yourself have something good. Let yourself be happy. Stop getting in your own way."

She sighed and shook her head. She knew he was right, Knew that if she had any chance of making it work, it would be with him.

Aaron Hotchner was a force to be reckoned with.

She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, rising up on her toes and claiming his mouth with hers.

That was all the answer he needed.


End file.
